`True BestFriend.

blah...

Sunday, October 07, 2007

7:39 PM

why is it sometimes it's the little things that no one notices that mean alot. it's words spoken in a light-hearted manner that can shatter hearts. it's things done with no intention of harming anyone that breaks a person down. it's those little things that people do that make your heart keel over and weep.

EMO SHIT.

(怎么一读到有关星光帮的事就变开朗了起来…)

yeah well anyways. i like this particular excerpt from My Sister's Keeper that i keep re-reading. well.. two excerpts actually.. many excerpt but two in particular. well i'll type one out today.

Sara

'Mom?' Jesse comes into the living room, where I am sitting on the couch. I've been there for hour now. I ca't seem to be able to make myself get up and do any of the things that I am supposed to do, because what is the point of packing school lunches or hemming a pair of pants or paying the heating bill?
'Mom,' Jesse says again. 'You didn't forget, did you?'
I look at him as if he is speaking Greek. 'What?'
'You said you'd take me to buy new cleats after we go to the orthdonist. You promised.'
Yes, I did. Because soccer starts two days from now, and Jesse's outgrown his old pair. But now I do not know if I can drag myself to the orthodonist's, where the receptionist will smile at Kate and tell me, like she always does, how beautiful my children are. And there is something about the thought of going to Sports Authority that seems downright obscene.
'I'm cancelling the orthodonist appointment,' I say.
'Cool!' He smiles, his silver mouth glinting. 'Can we just go get the cleats?'
'Now is not a good time.'
'But-'
'Jesse.Let.It.Go.'
'I can't play if I don't get new shoes. And you're not even doing anything. You're just sitting here.'
'Your sister,' I say evenly, 'is incredibly sick. I'm sorry if that interferes with your dentist appointment or your plan to go buy a pair of cleats. But those things don't rate quite as high in the grand scheme of things right now. I'd think that since you're ten, you might be able to grow up enough to realize that the world doesn't alwyas revolve around you.'
Jesse looks out the window, where Kate straddles the arm of and oak tree, coaching Anna in how to climb up. 'Yeah, right, she's sick,' he says. 'Why don't you grow up? Why don't you figure out that the whole world doesn't revolve around her?'
For the first time in my life I begin to understand how a parent might hit a child - it's because you can look into their eyes and see a reflection of yourself that you wish you hadn't. Jesse runs upstairs to slam the door to his bedroom.
I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths. And it strikes me: not everyone dies of old age. People get run over by cars. People crash in airplanes. People choke on peanuts. There are no guarantees about anything, least of all one's future.
With a sigh I walk upstairs, knock on my son's door. He has just recently discovered music; it throbs through the thin line of light at the base of the door. As Jesse turns down the stereo the notes flatten abruptly. 'What.'
'I'd like to talk to you. I'd like to apologize.'
There is a scuffle on the other side of the door, and then it swings open. Blood covers Jesses's mouth, a vampire's lipstick; bits of wire stick out like a seamstress's pins. I notice the fork he is holding, and realize this is what he has used to pull off his braces. 'Now you never have to take me anywhere,' he says.